


The magic of love

by alexisriversong



Series: Let's write Sherlock (challenge 15) [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Friendship/Love, M/M, Potions, Potter!Lock, Quidditch, seeker!john
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-15
Updated: 2014-09-15
Packaged: 2018-02-17 12:32:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2309774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexisriversong/pseuds/alexisriversong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically how Sherlock and John became friends in their seventh year at Hogwarts...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The magic of love

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of a series of five, it's based on the prompt of the "Let's write Sherlock trope bingo card 3(challenge 15)" that said AU: Magic
> 
> Edit: Now Betaed by the amazing  Iriya  
> all remaining mistakes are mine...

John walked over the Quidditch Pitch with his broomstick in hand. He was the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team and in just a few days he was going to lead the team to the final game against Slytherin for the Quidditch Hogwarts Cup. 

He was the Seeker, the one who had to catch the Snitch, without that there were practically no chances of victory. He had the hardest job in the whole team and had no idea what he could do to catch the bloody ball before the Seeker of the Slytherin team. 

Jim Moriarty was the best Seeker of the school. He had caught the little sneaky ball every fucking time he had played! John had no chances against him; there was nothing he could do. His broom was slower than Moriarty's and he had no money to buy a better one. 

He had won the last game just because the Ravenclaw Seeker had fallen off his broom and had broken his leg. Not his fault if the guy couldn't do a Wronsky faint or recognise one. He had been told off for his stunt but he hadn't cared. It was in the rules; he hadn't cheated. 

He had decided to practise on his own for a while before the game started. He knew he was going to find the pitch empty at that time of the day as everyone was supposed to be in the Great Hall for breakfast. He had gone to the kitchens earlier and had eaten with the house elves. He loved those little creatures because they were always so very helpful.

He jumped on his broom and found himself in the air within seconds. Being a seventh year he didn't have much time for friends or relationships as he had been busy studying to pass all his NEWTS. He needed an Outstanding in Potions to become a healer and he had barely an Exceeds Expectations. But despite all the study, he always found time for Quidditch. He couldn't live without it. He had found a way to learn more about Potions anyway. He just had to ask the one person for help he was afraid to talk to.

He froze in mid-air when he saw who was standing in the middle of the pitch with his broomstick in hand. Sherlock Holmes, the only boy whom he was attracted to; the only one who seemed not to be interested in anything related to sex or relationships; the boy whom he needed to ask for help to pass his Potions exam with the right grade to become a healer; the boy who deduced everyone and had no friends. John didn't even know that he knew how to fly.

Sherlock was staring up at him with an uncertain look on his face but, after looking at him for a period of time, he just got on his broomstick and joined John in the air. 

Like everything Sherlock did, he was holding himself impeccably on his broom which was a Firebolt 231, the best broom ever. 

They were both seventh years, although Sherlock was two years younger than John. He was clever even for a Ravenclaw and had been admitted to school when he was barely nine years old instead of eleven. His big brother was someone important in the Minister of Magic even when he had barely ended school. Now he WAS the Ministry of Magic itself. 

Of course, coming from a wealthy family, the boy had the best tailored uniforms and the best broom, even better than Moriarty's. 

John was afraid. The boy could tell everything about anyone at one glance and he found it fascinating, brilliant, but he never said it out loud. He didn't want to be noticed. 

He feared that the boy would see his infatuation immediately and laugh at him. 

Sherlock was now staring at him. The expected stream of words arrived immediately when he tried to say something.

“John Watson. You want to be a healer, you are worried about your grades in Potions, you are the captain and the Seeker of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, so you are also worried about the next match where you will have to win against Moriarty and you fear you are going to lose because your broom is far from being the fastest and you are afraid your skills are not good enough. You are trying to hide something from me, something no one knows, something about… is it the fact that your sister slept with half the girls of the castle? Because that is common knowledge…”

John blushed, his sister was incredibly oblivious sometimes. He was a bit relieved that Sherlock hadn’t picked up what his real secret was. He tried not to show how much relieved he was and tried to understand why Sherlock had told him all those things about himself. He thought of the reaction people usually had when they were deduced by the boy and smiled. Sherlock was trying to make him leave. He was probably occupying the pitch the same time when Sherlock allowed himself to fly. 

He had no intention of leaving as he finally had a chance to actually speak to the person he was foolishly in love with and had only observed from afar all of his years at Hogwarts. It was their last year now; he needed Sherlock’s help to pass the NEWTS in Potions with the desired mark and if he got rejected it wouldn’t hurt too much; he was leaving at the end of the year anyway, so he was probably not going to met with the guy again. 

He hadn’t realised that he was staring at Sherlock while following his train of thoughts. Nothing came to his mind what he could reply. 

“Brilliant,” he breathed out eventually, “Although I don’t understand why you had to tell me all those things about myself. I already knew them.”

Sherlock opened his mouth and gaped at him. “What did you just say?”

John smiled, he knew Sherlock didn’t like to repeat things but probably he made an exception for compliments. Apparently, the genius hadn’t received many in his life. 

“I said that was brilliant”

The boy looked so out of his depth that John almost felt pity for him. He decided that Sherlock would talk to him when he was ready and just began doing his exercises. 

He stretched his arms keeping his balance on the broom and then he started to fly in circles and up and down to control his movements better.

Sherlock just stared at him for a while; then he was suddenly at his side, racing him towards the ground. John recognised the moves of the Wronsky faint he had used against the Ravenclaw team and grinned. He accepted the silent challenge and followed him until they were mere centimeters from the ground. John was sure Sherlock would be able to complete the move with him. The two of them pulled on their broomsticks and found themselves flying in mid-air in a blink.

“WOW! Sherlock, that was amazing! Perfect! Why aren’t you on the Quidditch team? They would’ve won with you!” The genius looked at him with glee in his eyes and his mouth quirked in a grin. John had never seen Sherlock smile before and was so happy to see a smile on his face that he beamed at him with his best smile. 

“Thanks… So… You aren’t going to run away calling me a freak?” Sherlock looked at him, uncertain now.

“Of course not. Have you any idea how much I wanted a chance to really talk to you? How much I’ve wanted you to notice me and how much I want to be your friend?”

“I don’t have friends. And I always notice you,” he muttered grumpily, a pout already forming on his mouth. John smiled at that. 

“Do you want friends? Because maybe your approach if you want friends must change a bit…” 

“I don’t want friends! Everyone is stupid, so… normal…” he whined.

“I understand… It must be difficult to be around us with your intelligence. Your thoughts probably go around your head at maximum speed and you just can’t help to tell everyone around you about themselves. I’ve got an idea, why don’t you help me and I help you?” Sherlock gave him an intrigued look. It seemed as if John understood him better than anyone had ever done before.

“What do you suggest?” he asked suspiciously. 

“I suggest that you help me improve my skills as a Seeker and in Potions and in exchange I’ll go around with you and if you feel the need to deduce someone you will tell me instead of telling everyone. And if you do something that is not good I will also tell you. Agreed?” he flew closer and extended his hand. Sherlock looked like as if he was considering John’s words and finally shook his hand.

“Agreed… So… Now we are friends? Because if we are, I have to tell you that I don’t sleep much and I wander around the school at night and go deduce things and play the violin in the empty classrooms. I don’t know if our agreement works also for the nights, does it?” John smiled at his uncertainty. 

The idea of passing every moment of his days and nights in Sherlock’s company until the end of the year or until the boy got tired of him was very appealing. 

“If you want me to come with you I’d love to listen to you playing the violin and deduce things about the castle and the ghosts. I can show you the Room of Requirements if you already don’t know it…” 

“I’ve always wished to go but it won’t let me in! I even think the Room of Requirement doesn’t like me. Of course, I deduced its position on the seventh floor but I’ve never been able to get inside.”

“Don’t worry, we are friends now! I’ll show you,” John said with a twinkle in his eyes. 

And from that moment on they were best friends. Sherlock Holmes and John Watson went everywhere together. The Gryffindor team won the Quidditch Cup against Slytherin (Sherlock had lent John his broom, so it was really easy for him to catch the Snitch in record time) and when both of them passed their NEWTS in Potions with Outstanding no one was surprised. They passed all their needed exams and John ended up being a Healer just as he wanted. 

Sherlock began to help the Aurors with their investigations without even passing exams. He became a Consulting Wizard, not an Auror, he kept saying. He had invented his own profession and he didn’t want to wait to be allowed to be a real Auror and didn’t want his brother’s help. 

They ended up living together after school and found a flat in London – 221B Baker Street was their home. Sherlock deduced his friend’s feelings after only one month of living together and was thrilled. Sometimes, John would leave his patients of St. Mungo to join Sherlock in his investigations and once at home they would giggle like schoolboys and once, full with the adrenaline of the moment, the genius had grabbed his flatmate and clumsily kissed him against the door. 

It was an awkward first kiss but it led to a series of other firsts for Sherlock and that was how they started to become more than flatmates and best friends. That was the beginning of the love story between Sherlock Holmes and John Watson. Their love story continued until the end of their days when they retired in a house just outside Hogsmeade. Sherlock dedicated the rest of his life of being a beekeeper and John wrote a book in which he related all of their adventures. 

They had their fights during the time of their lives but what is the fun in a relationship if there aren’t fights? After all, they kept Sherlock from being bored and led to wonderful make-up sex. The important part is to keep loving each other in the bad and the good times and to never let the problems separate you. You have to respect and understand each other. And of course you have to love. Because love is the most powerful charm of the world. 

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing except my imagination. The Harry Potter world is owned by JK Rowlings and all the Sherlock references and characters are owned by the BBC, Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and Arthur Conan Doyle
> 
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated and if you want you can follow me on Tumblr (my url is the same that I have here) and send me prompts and ask anything you want...


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